


pretty in crimson

by retroyangs



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: A Horny One, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Blood, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Mark is a dork, Secret Relationship, Sexual Tension, Who swears a lot, inspired by supernatural but also definitely not, jaemin is a vampire, mark loves monsters, mentions of blood bc vampires, this is blatantly homosexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:28:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29420877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retroyangs/pseuds/retroyangs
Summary: “I’d make a mess out of you,” he murmurs, tightening his grip on Mark’s bare thigh. His shorts have ridden up, but he doubts Jaemin would have any qualms about that. “Keep you in my bed for days, drain you over and over until all you can do is beg for me.”(Growing up in a family of monster hunters means Mark has plenty of experience when it comes to keeping secrets. But this one — this one is by far the hottest.)
Relationships: Mark Lee/Na Jaemin
Comments: 18
Kudos: 140
Collections: Challenge #5 — I heard a secret..





	pretty in crimson

**Author's Note:**

> this happened because i wanted to write mark lee a little obsessed with monsters... and i think the world i've created is pretty rad. i hope you think so too ^__^

As an individual descending from a long line of monster hunters, Mark has had plenty of experience keeping secrets. Despite not _actually_ being allowed to join in on the fun, his childhood was composed of shoddy excuses to his many teachers about the whereabouts of his older brother (Taeyong was the only one permitted to join in on hunts), why his brother was covered in a disturbing assortment of cuts and bruises (no, they weren’t being abused, his parents saved all the beatings for the monsters), and why he never turned in his homework ( _“it was a werewolf, Miss!”_ never seemed to work, irritatingly enough). 

Why everybody depended on little Mark Lee to answer their questions will forever be a mystery. But he kept his brothers secrets. 

His brother should consider himself lucky that he’s no longer in school, and so Mark needn’t cover for him anymore — because an older Mark would not be so enthused. A young child excited at the prospect of being on location of a potential monster hunt has warped into a bitter young adult, irritated that even after all this time, his dear brother still refuses to bring Mark along for the real fights. 

_Move to town after town with me, little brother, and conduct all the research on the target, scour old dusty libraries for hours, or shoddy websites that offer up more porn advertisements than relevant information, but suggest that you join in on the actual fighting? That’s preposterous!_

But perhaps it’s a good thing. Fighting has never been on the forefront of his mind when he learns of these different creatures. No, the euphoria comes from learning their habits, their physical attributes, the way they like to tear the skin right off their victims bodies, ghouls, ghosts, vampires, witches, sirens — 

Mark does, however, need to go outside from time to time. His own thoughts can scare even himself. 

But that fact brings about the biggest secret of all, one he’s kept hidden from his family for weeks now, that he could be strangled for — ripped limb from limb, by his own brother. 

A secret that, undoubtedly, makes his dick twitch. 

He’s not proud of it, but it is what it is. 

“Back again, little fawn?” 

The familiar drawl sends a shiver wracking down his spine. It can’t be the wind causing this reaction, because it’s a muggy summer night and sweat pools under his armpits. He hasn’t made it far, maybe two blocks away from his house and his knee throbs like a motherfucker from when he’d hit it against the ledge of his window during his escape attempt. 

Escape attempt makes it sound more grand than it is, he could have just exited the front door. But god forbid his elderly neighbours would hear him leave, and slip it in passing small talk with his brother when he gets back from his weekend hunt at the next town over. No, precautions are necessary. And a fucking bitch. 

“You sound surprised. Scared your natural charm and wit has stopped working on me?” He raises an eyebrow at the approaching figure, mouth drawing into a smirk. 

Jaemin struts towards him like the 17th century wet dream he knows he is, clad in a leather jacket and a shirt that may as well be soaked in blood as for how crimson it is, catching even Mark’s always-wandering attention. The smile he sends his way gives Mark time to catch a glimpse of his canines, a flash of light even in the dark of night, and arousal claws its way down his stomach. He’s always easy to please. 

“More like your monster-fucking kink has sent you into the arms of another,” Jaemin sighs dramatically, digging his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“I don’t have a monster-fucking kink!” Mark’s cheeks burn at the suggestion. “It’s more like— like an _affinity_ for the supernatural.” 

“Monster-fucking kink.” 

They come to a stop in front of each other, close enough that strands of Jaemin’s blue hair tickle his forehead. It had been a request Mark was willing to oblige, if you could fucking believe it — he snuck out at night and risked his own life to dye the mans _hair._ He thought after that he was at least owed some attention downstairs, a thank you gift for the strenuous hours in which Jaemin bemoaned the thought of it turning out horrible because Mark is a _“helpless human, oh what will I do?”_ But the sun was up and Taeyong was to be back early, and Mark was sent on his merry, blue-balled way. 

“The only monster I want to fuck is you,” Mark crosses his arms. They’re wasting precious hours over this. 

Jaemin coos. “Oh, how _romantic_ , my love. Truly, no one has said anything sweeter than that to me.” 

“Shut up. How did you know where I was, anyway?”

Jaemin shrugs, lifting a hand out of his pocket to grip Mark’s wrist, nails digging in near the vein. Goosebumps involuntarily break out on Mark’s skin at the thought of Jaemin just being able to tear through and suck him dry (you know, like, his blood). 

It’s just an _affinity for the supernatural._

“You stink. I could smell you for miles.” Jaemin crinkles his nose, looking at Mark with what can only be defined as disapproval. The streets are dark at this time of night, the lamps not giving Mark much to go on. Jaemin’s night vision is helpful at times like this, when he almost trips over a stupid rock and his companion catches him just in time. “You’re lucky it’s only our clan here. Imagine if another vampire had found you?” 

“Jealous?” Mark blinks at him, hoping to drag any sort of response out of Jaemin that isn’t neutral. Preferably something hot. “I can handle myself, you know,” he tacks on. Because he totally can. 

Jaemin snorts. 

“What? I come from a family of _very_ well-known monster hunters, thank you very much. Just because I don’t want to kill _you,_ doesn’t mean I can’t—”

“When we met you tried to cut off my head with a pocket-knife, my love. I don’t want to doubt you but the evidence is just insurmountable…” Jaemin squeezes his wrist. Mark can feel his chest shaking with laughter from where they’re linked shoulder to shoulder. 

Man, fuck this guy. He doesn’t know shit. 

“Maybe I just didn’t want to kill you,” he replies smartly. 

It’s a blatant lie, of course. He’d been in the middle of a convenience store run despite Taeyong begging him to stay at home during night hours, because despite all the fuss, Mark is an independent man through and through. He was well aware that a vampire clan was present in their small town and were more than adequate at hiding such existence. Taeyong had been unable to track them despite living here for so long, but fuck it, he wanted ramen. And he’d been happily trodding down the street in his flip-flops and flannel jammie shorts until he’d been unceremoniously thrust into a wall in some alleyway.

He’d really done his best to dig out his pocket-knife as the vampire had bared his teeth, ready to sink into Mark’s neck, and as much as Jaemin likes to make fun of him — it really had been what saved him. He’d realised Mark knew what he was, Mark had _attempted_ to cut off his annoyingly attractive head, and demanded answers with sharp nails digging into the sides of Mark’s throat. 

God, it was hot. Mark junior had agreed. 

And then he’d uttered the line, _the line,_ that Mark dreamt about for days afterwards. 

_“That won’t cut off my head, sweetheart.”_

In present time, Jaemin rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards as he takes sick delight in teasing him. “No, you wanted to fuck me.” 

Mark chokes on his spit. “Untrue!” 

“Your little _problem_ is what saved you. Don’t fight me on this, darling. I found it so peculiar that your response wasn’t fear, but rather—” 

Mark shakes his head, eyeing the pavement and praying it swallows him whole. What is the point of shacking up with a pretty vampire if they never let you live anything down? Centuries alive and you’d assume they’d develop a pretty shit memory, but Jaemin is a walking fucking encyclopaedia of all things Mark. 

“Don’t say it.” 

Jaemin laughs, pulling Mark closer by his shoulder. His skin is cold to the touch as Mark thumbs at his waist, at the skin peeking out from under his shirt. “I brought you home, didn’t I? So don’t be embarrassed.” 

He nips at Mark’s ear, canines digging into the flesh. Mark bites back a whimper. 

He clears his throat instead. “Where are we going, anyway? Is it just us tonight?” 

Often they find themselves joined by other members of Jaemin’s clan, who’ve equally grown to adore him, as he likes to think. Initially it hadn’t been quite the case, as he posed a risk living with a literal hunter of their kind. But he kept Taeyong off their backs, and they supported his… _lifestyle_ with Jaemin. 

“We’re almost there,” Jaemin replies. “Blood supplies are running low and everyone’s getting a little antsy, you know, from denying our natural instincts,” he gestures pointlessly. “We’re going on a hunt. The others are about a minute away, I can hear them now.” 

Mark sucks in a breath. He’s read up on it, stories of victims of vampire hunts, all fed on by the one clan. Jaemin’s clan are never so brutal, their usual supply coming from blood banks and donors over the internet — such an _interesting_ place it is — and part of that is the reason why Mark is so comfortable keeping them a secret from Taeyong in the first place, no matter how guilty he can feel sometimes. 

Like when his brother comes home early and Mark has to fake a morning run, or when Jaemin gets particularly enthusiastic one night and Mark is left to hide the bruises and the scratches and pretend he hasn’t been _mauled._ He always hugs Taeyong a tad tighter, tells him he loves him a little more, after situations like that. It weighs heavy on him, keeping such a secret. The vampires, his relationship with Jaemin. 

But he looks at Jaemin, soft under the lamp light, staring at Mark with so much trust in those carmine eyes, and he knows it’s always going to be worth it. 

And the hunt is something they do to scratch the itch, the instinct that hasn’t faded over the centuries, to find a human and drain them of their blood, leave them abandoned in a dump somewhere with the hopes they won’t be found. It’s necessary to keep them from going insane. 

“Sweetheart?” Jaemin prods, catching Mark’s attention. He hadn’t noticed, but his arms have gone slack in Jaemin’s hold, and he’s sweating significantly more than he was before, the damp air aside. 

Jaemin turns to face him, fingers skimming his jaw. He traces the curve of it, moving downwards only to lightly tap against Mark’s pulse before moving back again. He repeats the motions, Mark easily leaning into his touch. Minor freak-out aside, he’s still burning with a want for anything related to Jaemin, and as much as he tries to ignore it, a sick part of him _wants_ to enjoy what he knows will unfold. And Jaemin knows it too, always knows. “Do you want to watch, Mark?” 

Mark nods, entranced as Jaemin’s dainty lips part to let the syllables flow off his tongue. 

Yes, Jaemin is a secret he can keep, no matter what he sees. No matter what he does. 

Jaemin leans in to kiss him, their first of the night. He’s possessive as always, his hands dragging through Mark’s hair to pull him where he wants him, and Mark is always eager to follow. He sucks on Mark’s tongue, opening up his mouth with what would ordinarily be described as desperation, but on Jaemin it’s a display of control, the actions of a natural predator. 

Mark loves that he’s his chosen prey. 

Jaemin’s canines catch on his bottom lip, and it stings. Mark almost withdraws out of instinct, but Jaemin moves a hand from his hair to his lower back, applying pressure to the area and tugging on his scalp for good measure. Mark stays put, letting Jaemin lick the blood from the wound, his first taste of the night. He only chimes in with an unsubtle moan as their teeth clack together and spit gathers between their lips, messy as they always are. His hips make contact with Jaemin’s as he tries to get closer, soothe the heat bubbling in his veins with Jaemin’s cold touch, but instead he finds it only heightens the feeling. It travels down south, and he feels Jaemin’s cockiness upon realisation of that fact.

When Jaemin pulls away the spit follows him, and it shouldn’t turn Mark on as much as it does to see the line connecting them before it breaks, both of them panting under their breaths. Mark is the only one flushed, but Jaemin’s eyes are sharp as they take him in. 

They walk in silence to meet the others, Mark afraid that if he speaks he’ll jump Jaemin, and Jaemin seems to think the same. A taste of his blood has probably set him on edge, and it’s important that they find a human quickly. 

“Little fawn!” one of the oldest clan members, Ten, calls out. A chorus of the same nickname greets him as they all move to hug him, excited that he’s decided to join them. 

“Doyoung wants you to stay in our car while we hunt,” Chenle, one of their newest members, pouts. “I said that’s no fun! But he thinks that if you’re recognised you won’t be able to hide like the rest of us.” 

Jaemin comes up from behind Mark, protective hands finding his waist. “I didn’t think of that. Is it alright with you, little fawn?” He presses a kiss to Mark’s temple, an attempt to appease him. 

It works, Mark melts like an ice cream amidst a heat wave. “Yeah. Just— come see me straight after?” 

Jaemin squeezes his waist. Mark preens under the attention. “Of course. I’m all yours.” 

Things escalate quickly after that. Mark is shoved in their car, abandoned as they do what they need to. Jaemin’s absence is something he’s always fast to notice, because without his lover here, the guilt rises and rises until he can’t keep ignoring its existence. He curls up in the back seats, tight enough to feel the comfort of his own arms around him, blocking out thoughts of Taeyong and the rest of his family as well as the screams he can hear in the distance. He drowns it out with thoughts of Jaemin, how he’ll kiss Mark like he’s the only human that matters, bruise his skin and leave traces of himself on Mark that not even Taeyong could find. 

He doesn’t wait long, and he’s absentmindedly thinking about what his older brother could be doing at this very moment when the door to the car pulls open, and Jaemin is climbing in beside him. A worried frown as he takes in Mark’s form is enough for Mark to surge up and kiss him, hissing as the taste of iron fills his mouth. 

“Couldn’t— wait—?” Jaemin mumbles against his mouth, noting Mark’s displeasure. 

Mark climbs onto his lap, deepening the kiss. He wants to spit out the blood, wishing that it was his own and not some random person who had the misfortune of walking at night. He says as much, and Jaemin giggles. 

“I’d make a mess out of you,” he murmurs, tightening his grip on Mark’s bare thigh. His shorts have ridden up, but he doubts Jaemin would have any qualms about that. “Keep you in my bed for days, drain you over and over until all you can do is beg for me.” 

He leaves a trail of kisses down Mark’s jaw, the spot under his ear, and all over his throat. Mark closes his eyes, shivering from the icy touch. He grinds down, chasing the pleasure, and Jaemin bucks up in shared interest. Mark moans at the contact, hands pressing on the back of Jaemin’s head, forcing him further down Mark’s body, teeth scraping his collarbone. 

“You should be heading home soon,” Jaemin whispers. It tickles, but Mark just presses down harder. 

“Don’t have to—” he gasps at a particularly painful nip from Jaemin, right on a patch of sensitive skin. “Don’t have to. My brothers away for — a couple — a couple days.” 

The guilt closes in on him again, vague hints of nausea prodding at his stomach. Jaemin senses this, and pulls away from his neck so they’re eye to eye. He presses a chaste kiss to Mark’s lips, those red eyes showing a sincerity his family wouldn’t believe. Feelings that monsters aren’t supposed to have. But Jaemin does, and he does for Mark. 

“Then come home with me, sweetheart. We can spend the day under the covers. Would you like that?” He runs a hand through Mark’s sweaty locks. But he doesn’t seem to mind, his concentration on Mark’s well-being. 

It’s very much a turn-on. Shit, he really needs to get outside more, if genuine care has him aching. 

“Please,” he whispers hoarsely. It’s almost pathetic how he attaches his mouth to Jaemin’s and licks into it like a starving man. But hey, if the shoe fits. 

Jaemin lets him, firm arms wrapping around his waist and keeping Mark secure. They wait like this for the others to return, so they can move this somewhere else, like his lovers silk sheets (they’re expensive, and that’s also a turn-on).

But fuck, Jaemin’s beautiful even with blood smeared across his lips. A secret Mark will keep for as long as it takes. 

Eternity, even. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/retroyangs) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/retroyangs)


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